


Dancing

by EntertainingMuffin



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bittersweet, Dancing, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Lost Love, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Slice of Life, Strangers to Lovers, it was a prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-21 00:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17632835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EntertainingMuffin/pseuds/EntertainingMuffin
Summary: How dancing can be bittersweet.





	Dancing

**Author's Note:**

> So I've never written anything before so I thought I might try it out. The prompt that produced this was "Dancing, what are they tapping their toes to". Ended up a bit bittersweet but oh well.

Her feet tap lightly against the wet footpath. Dancing between the crowd, walking, almost bouncing along to a beat that only she can hear. Her hair bobbing along behind her, nearly catching on the strangers that walk against her as she sways to the rhythm of men late for business meetings, girls gossiping about boys and their charms, and the mums watching over their children as they go to cross a road.

Her hand trails along the wall, skipping to a traffic light where she comes to a stop. She pauses, gazing up at the clouds that block out the sun, looking as if they could spill at any moment. The light changes, she steps between the black and white, almost jumping along to the thunder that echoes overhead.

A hand reaches out, she looks back at her capture, a smile growing as he joins her in her dance amongst the lively streets of the city. No words are shared between them, as they sway together, separating and coming back together, as they find the rhythm that they both share. Slowly, as if both are unaware, their hand separate, the pulse of the beat that once echoed between them, slightly out of time.

Their beats drift, hands become slower to catch one another. She reaches out, her hand brushes against the empty air. He is gone, lost amongst the rhythm of the people, too far out of tempo to catch one another any more. Her hand trails against the wall, hair swaying to a new beat, similar but different to the one that came before. Water falls around her as she laughs and skips to this new beat, feet splashing into new puddles. She comes to rest at a new intersection, waiting for the green light. Go. Her feet fall on every black and white stripe, she looks up, seeing someone who matches her beat, she reaches out.


End file.
